Where are my pants?

How did it get so out of control?

48 hours ago I was sitting at the Driskill drinking a Basil Hayden Manhattan when I got a text message from Raul. "I'm in town for a wedding, let's have lunch". Simple enough. Westivus would start off with a mild Thursday, a Friday night on the town, lunch with Raul Saturday, and then a couple of dinners Sunday & Monday with friends and family.

A simple weekend for an easy 34 years.

Thursday went off without a hitch. Dinner and a couple of drinks.

Then comes Friday. An entirely different kind of monster. A monster that wakes up passed out on the lawn in front of his house kind of monster. Why did I take my boots off?

From what I recall, the night started off fairly plain. JS and I headed to Trudy's on campus for some dinner and drinks. Now, if you haven't been to the Trudy's on campus, allow me to incriminate myself. It is full, and I mean FULL, of beautiful women. I think we decided that the "do-able" percentage was in the high 80's. ***disclaimer below***

We hung out for what seemed like forever in slow motion. The next thing I knew, the booze had me in rare form. I was ready for some fun.


We went back to mi casa and drank a few beers in the back yard. Called a cab and hit up the Driskill Bar. Andrew Three Story added to my buzz with a BH Manhattan straight up. Delicious bourbon.

I'm not sure what exactly happened but I managed to piss off a couple of girls sitting a chair down from us at the bar. I didn't have a seat, and the one in between us hadn't been used in the 10 minutes we got there, so I grabbed it and moved it to my spot beside the taps. I noticed my shoe was untied so I bent down to tie it. Next thing I know she's giving me the shit-eye and taking the chair back. We exchange pleasantries and I mutter "go fuck yourself" under my breath. I'm such a charmer. Don't worry though, I found a short chair and nuzzled up to the bar.

Later in the evening it got pretty crowded. We were talking to a couple chaps from London when they walked in. Up first, a 5 foot nothing brunette with piercing blue eyes. J called dibs. Next up, the 6'2" blonde with a perky nose and just as perky ya-ya's. I didn't mind having to jump on this grenade.

We played it cool not wanting to seem too obvious that the entire bar was looking at them. A seemingly wealthy older gentleman made the first move. We sat back and watched him blow through at least $300 trying to get these young lasses drunk. Easy money.

Towards the better part of midnight, we decided to make our move. With Andrew making up random shots for my birthday, we decided to send a few over. Thanks and well wishes were shouted, shots were downed, and the old guy was pissed. We headed over to their side of the bar and struck up some conversation.

I can't recall much of what was said but I'm sure I was funny. I've never been intimidated by or really attracted to the tall blonde girls. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't kick her out of bed for eating crackers (you know, crackers make crumbs) but it wasn't the ultimate goal. I was really just wingman for J. He got her number but I think he blew it when he drunk texted at 3am that morning.

I digress.

We left the Driskill, walked around for an hour, and finally caught a cab. J wanted pancakes or something so we went to Kerby Lane "near my house". I quote near my house because that's what I was thinking when I told J we could just have the cab drop us off at Kerby and then walk home.

I ordered but couldn't wait. I was gonna pass out. I ate a bite of sausage and half a biscuit then headed out the door shouting directions to J.

What a shitty walk. I swear I was out there wandering the streets for over an hour. I made it home and ended up passing out on the sidewalk just 20 steps to my bed.

For some reason, I took my boots off.

.......stay tuned for Saturday's adventures with Raul!


***Hey, just because I ordered the steak, doesn't mean I can't look at the menu.***